Serendipity
by Val-Creative
Summary: Keith and the rest of the paladins seek refuge with their allies after a battle gone wrong. Success lies in results, or so most of the Garrison has taught him — and he and his friends are all still alive. That is as much success as Keith imagines they're gonna get at this point. /Canon AU. Oneshot.


**.**

 **.**

Success lies in results, or so most of the Garrison has taught him — and he and his friends are all still _alive_. That is as much success as Keith imagines they're gonna get at this point.

There is not enough of the quintessence energy to keep them bonded as Voltron, so they separate, eventually flying together in a tightly formed group, mindful of their exposed and dark void-barren surroundings in case one of the wormholes burst into a sudden, colorful existence.

During one of their missions, traveling into the outer reaches of the galaxy and landing for refueling along with a newer troop of their volunteers, Commander Ladnok sprung an attack. Her and her soldiers aboard the Central Command Ship that once belonged to Zarkon and then Lotor, swarmed them and then blew up the headquarters along with a few innocent lives.

Calling in back-up had not been an option either. Shiro and the ship Atlas were too far off.

It took forming Voltron to return a substantial amount of power needed, with Pidge hacking into the defenses of their enemy's proto-security barriers, locking in the escape-pods and then annihilating the Galran warship itself. Afterwards, they all flee with the other survivors.

Keith doesn't know how far they make it before the Black Lion's monitor flashes an alert in purplish-golden, summoning a map of the nearest constellation and indicating the planet ahead.

One of their allies — they were massive and wide, genderless beings who spoke their native language with a series of hand-slaps and throat-clicks, because, well, they had no lips or mouth. He's met with a ranking officer, long ago, while Allura and Coran had been invited to a private banqent to celebrate their fortunate union. Most of these alien beings spoke with outsiders through telepathy, and Keith hated it.

It felt like an _invasion_ to his living brain-cells.

But they were welcoming to others and deeply empathetic. A servant had been able to sense Pidge's turmoil about losing Matt to the ongoing war, without hearing anything about it. They offered to wipe her memory of her older brother, to lessen the burden of her grief, which Pidge adamently refused.

It had not been uncommon of a practice to do this, according to their traditions. When there is grief, there needs to be healing. Simply and practically. And the knowledge of healing came naturally, medically or emotionally for them. Their desire to rid everyone of pain and negativity and wicked intentions sometimes came as an _extreme_ measure, but they are learning along with us, Coran assured the paladins when questioned about their abilities. Keith didn't know if he could ever fully trust someone like that.

But now, Keith's relief overcomes him as they all drift close to the titan of a super-world, haloed in visible and pale blue rings of ice. The airglow of stars meld and brighten like a pulse.

"Keith…" Allura's voice murmurs through their comm.-link, trembly like his entire body wants to.

"Yeah," Keith answers, breathy and low. "We made it. We're okay."

Lance's comm.-link wreathes in static, before clearing up. "Nothing like the desert back home, huh, buddy?" he announces smugly, sounding like Lance is grinning through his own words.

It's… it's _not_.

And it's more safe than remaining out in the open.

 **.**

 **.**

Keith remembers the name of this place: Jarffvria, the planet of the Obelisk and Gredtiahnegs. A constantly snowy planet encased by huge, forested mountains and ravines.

The beings, empathetic and built like muscles on top of muscles and full of an oddly disconnected sense of altruism — the Gredtiahnegs — are not the original dwellers. The small, weak race of Jarffvria had been killed off by a biological and rare virus that leaked out from the cracks in the ground's ice. It's why the Gredtiahnegs created advanced technology, though older than Altean's own form of technology, to keep the multitude of rings _active_ around Jarffvria for thousands of deca-phoebs.

He disengages from piloting mode of the Black Lion, listening to her purr-rumble, turning off the lights and opening up the mouth-ramp. Everybody else files out, survivors who cling to each other and mumble fearfully, and then his paladins. With their helmets on, Pidge and Allura help a queasy and pale-looking Hunk out of his own Lion. Blood flecks the inside of Hunk's clear visor.

"Let's get him up to the med-wing," Keith insists, taking over for Allura and supporting him upright, wrapping an arm around Hunk's back. Just like before, as soon as their presence is made known to the Gredtiahnegs, they're transported in a split-second within a nearby building.

At first, it appears like a large and plastic-glistening bubble emerges from the metallic-grey ground, closing and enveloping him and Allura and Hunk, before they de-materialize.

Re-materializing always causes Keith's head to whir and the insides of his teeth to feel slick.

Hunk patiently awaits to be examined by the med-staff, clasping onto Keith's shoulder as his leader does the same, giving Keith a broad, pain-wincing smile. It turns out that he's been traveling around for a varga or so with a busted set of ribs on his left side and a ruptured spleen.

Once he's sure that Hunk will be looked after, prepped for what highly intelligent beings deemed _minor_ surgery and recovery, Keith wanders out to another chamber-room where Allura waits.

She's been examined thoroughly as well, stripped off her paladin-armor and uniform. Allura glances towards him quietly, solemnly, never getting up from the med-table. Her bare, dark brown knees dangling over the edge. Overhead, raspberry lights tinge Allura's platinum-colored hair.

Allura smooths her palms over her hips, inhaling sharply. Keith notices she's wearing a pair of white, boy-cut shorts and white cloth-bindings against her front in likely what is a makeshift bra.

But her shoulders and arms, as well as Allura's back, is loosely covered by a long, white robe.

"You took a hit earlier," Keith points out, staring into her bright blue eyes.

Allura's lips twitch. Not quite the convincing mask of a smile. "I am fine, Keith," she announces, shifting the robe and flinching unmistakably when one of her arms raises and bends.

He doesn't try to verbally persuade her, and grasps around the upper hem of Allura's robe. It falls down. On her abdomen, two of her Altean markings — pink and sickle-shaped — sit right above her navel. Markings on her upper arms, near her under-pits and on the very inner wrists.

Keith swallows hard, frowning. There's an array of crimson and purple-blackening bruises forming to Allura's right shoulder and collarbone. There's more down to her elbow, blotchy and enormous in size. He gazes over those injuries, clutching Allura's hand and lifting her arm slowly. Allura finally lets out a whimper, as Keith's fingers to his other hand brushes lightly over her.

" _I should have…_ "

She shakes her head as if exasperated and whispers his name, reaching out to hold the sides of Keith's head.

He moves to her unspoken command, bending in and closing his eyes when Allura's cool, softened mouth lands against his hair-line. It's a familial sort of kiss.

"You are a good leader. You are a good man," Allura reminds him, pulling away and caressing her thumb-pads over Keith's jaw. "Please do not blame yourself for this _…_ "

He's not sure if that is possible, but Keith allows himself to half-attempt a smile for her, leaning in further wordlessly. He feels her place another open-mouthed kiss to his temple, and then Keith's brow, reveling in the compassionate presence of Allura.

 **.**

 **.**

Pidge and Lance must have vanished somewhere else. Hopefully not getting into trouble.

They're not injured, or so far as Keith has become aware. He heads for another section of the infrastructure, back towards the ground-level and outside, locating around the corner what appears to be a hot springs. A mile-long pool of water and thick, cloudy steam. Various metallic-looking plants and shrubs dotting along the exterior. Was it for organic beings or merely for show?

After confirming it with a Gredtiahneg bystander, Keith goes deeper into the area, peeling off his own uniform. For a titan-planet dumped with snow and ice and hail, it _can_ warm up decently.

None of the deathly, skin-rotting virus exists within the heart of their Citadel.

Or else this would be bad. Very bad.

Keith sinks into the hot, bubbling water, dunking his face and spitting out a mouthful. He rakes his hands through his dark, wet hair and then tunes into the noise of stomping footsteps.

"WAHHH- _HOOOOOOOOOO_!"

A splash. Keith protects himself from the oncoming, rolling wave, ducking again and wiping off his reddened, grimacing face and eyes. "Seriously, Lance?" he yells, irritated.

Lance surfaces, floating casually on his back and wriggling his toes.

" _Aaah_ , this feels so good." Keith ignores him, dropping the back of his skull against the pool's edge. "Feels like all the soreness inside you just… _faaades_ all away, doesn't it…" Lance adds, primly jutting out his chin and relaxing, basking in the magnificent heat.

They lounge around for a bit, and then Lance reaches for his undershirt tossed aside. Keith glances up to see the other man's bottom sticking out of the water, rolling his eyes.

"Put it away."

Lance notices him _noticing_ , bestowing Keith a big, shit-eating grin. "C'mon, I know you like a little meat on them bones." He proceeds to smack his own bottom, laughing when Keith grumbles.

"Thought we weren't talking about that…"

"You mean me walking on _you_ and some Altean dude from the colony?" Lance says blandly, and then puts up his hands, wide-eyed when Keith glares outright. "I haven't _said_ anything about that! Yeeeeeeesh!" He makes a low, offended noise, mopping off his face with his undershirt. Lance tosses it again, mumbling and looking away, "Guess you're not a fan of the Klance endgame they've been spreading rumors about…"

Keith blinks, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell is _Klance_?"

"Holy crow—it means Keith and Lance!" Lance peers over his shoulder, almost too close to gleeful about this subject. "Do you not _read_ anything on the public forums of the alien-web? We got super fans in the Coalition, dude… and, oh, _oh_ , their imaginations run _wild_ …"

"I don't," Keith interrupts, stretching out a pale hand and motioning. "I don't want to know."

A _pfftt!_.

Lance flashes a grin and splashes him in the chest, bursting out laughing when Keith retaliates harshly, slapping the water and heaving himself after Lance, racing against him. It feels _good_ to get his nervous energy out, tackling the other man and putting him in a headlock until Lance tap-splashes out, his young and brown features tightening with another broad smile.

He resists the urge to hug Lance too, like Allura hugged him and reassured him. They haven't always been on the same wavelength, not when they started out as paladins of Voltron, but Lance does understand him more than the others. He can get through Keith's guards like it's nothing.

"You good, Keith?" Lance asks, watching curiously as Keith's mouth scrunches. He rubs against his eyelids. No stinging-hot water, just… _tears_?

Oh, god.

Keith fights down the urge to sink underneath the geyser of hot water and drown himself. "Awh… hey, don't, c'mere…" Lance whispers, no longer funning around, squeezing his bare, damp arms around Keith's neck. "You're such a stiff, Mullet. Let someone hug you once in a while, alright?"

" _Sure, whatever_ ," Keith whispers back dully, placing his hands onto Lance's shoulder-blades, and then resting his chin gently onto Lance's shoulder-joint.

 **.**

 **.**

Pretty soon, they're ready to leave. To head back to the mission.

Keith sends his thanks to the representative of the Gredtiahnegs, standing out in the middle of the landing-port where their Lions wait. Pidge and Hunk hop eagerly into theirs, but Allura touches over Keith's hand first, and Lance winks slyly, patting over Keith's back before he runs off.

Maybe it's _more_ than just about success and surviving. He guesses, maybe, it's about keeping your friends around. Keeping them happy and keeping them safe from harm at the end of it all.

He wants that for them. Not just Lance, or Allura… but _all_ of them. Shiro, too.

They have to do more for the universe than just _defend_ it.

" _Let's go, Keith!_ " Lance hollers over the roar of the engines, waving from the Red's top-hatch. He gives a double thumbs-up when Keith's mouth perks up, and Keith hurries to his own Lion.

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 _Voltron isn't mine. What's this you say? It's Val writing Gen fic? Wooooooww. INCREDIBLE. Love it though because I'm weak for Keith being the leader and his friends appreciating him. I entered the Keithmas 2018 and was assigned to lionswaps and I hope you all like this! Comments/thoughts are AS ALWAYS ENCOURAGED! :D_


End file.
